The cavernous vault echoed with every step I took. I had spent several hours examining the vault's state in great detail, but there was little left to learn. The main hall had been sacked, and I hadn't had the emotional fortitude to explore the back halls yet, and I refused to explore the hole in the wall or the tunnel beyond. However, what I’d learned from the Great Hall was heartening.

  Despite the time I'd spent asleep and the corrosive effects of being so deep in the Depths, the walls of my most sacred place still pulsed with my magic. Though empty and decayed, it was still teeming with enough power to prevent monsters from forming within its walls - something rather unheard of for a demesne so deep in the Depths.

  I was simply that impressive.

  With each step, the sigils carved into the nearest walls shimmered in response to my presence. I knew that, without maintenance, even my impressive magics would eventually fade away, but I still had time. Once I regained my strength, I would restore everything to its proper glory.

  That certainty, at least, gave me some comfort. I was, if nothing else, home. My vault was still a memento to my past power, and walking its halls once again made me feel rejuvenated, if only slightly. Thus, after sulking and delay, I finally meandered to the large hole in the southern side of my vault, ready to face my new reality.

  I started by inspecting the large crack in my vault’s wall. Running my fingers along the edge, I traced the line between the immaculately carved interior and the crude hack job beyond. Pick axes and magical scoring marred the edges, revealing a deep, narrow tunnel extending into the Depths. It went far enough that even my enhanced eyes couldn’t see the end.

  Curiously, a sigil glowing with red light shone above the hole. I hadn’t created that one. While its magic didn't affect me, I knew it would prevent others from accessing the vault. A half dozen abandoned pickaxes lay on the ground just inside the tunnel, and hundreds of chipped rocks made it obvious someone had spent much time trying to carve their way around the enchantment.

  They had failed.

  “What was this enchantment, Angra?”

  Angra, having remained silent for much of the time, whispered in my ear, “They thought they’d reenter our home. I made sure they didn’t.”

  “And down the tunnel?”

  “That’s where the rest are, Master. What's left of them, at least. Come." Her eyes glowed with delight.

  I stared into the dark tunnel. I could almost taste the lingering desperation of the men and women trapped within by my precious servant. I smiled. They must have died slowly, struggling to move rocks and debris as they starved. "How long ago was this?"

  She tapped her chin with her sharp black fingernails while counting the digits on her other hand. "Ummmmm..." Her eyes flicked to the walls as she counted.

  “Take your time.”

  After some time, her head bobbed. "Ten thousand four hundred and twelve days." Her eyes glanced at the stone wall of the tunnel. I realized that much of the scoring on the surface was a series of lines. She had been counting the days.

  "...that means absolutely nothing to me."

  "Wait a moment! Let me think."

  "Angra," I sighed. "In years, please."

  "No, no, I got this. Alrighty then..." She counted her fingers again. "One... two... more than eight decades."

  "That's... impressive math." I chuckled as I reached up and patted her head. "Not bad, my servant. I might just be proud of you once again." I realized I'd forgotten my vow to stop praising her. Instead of fussing this time, though, she simply cooed at the praise.

  A thought nagged at me, though. How long had I been dead? If it had been eight decades since the thieves entered the vault, it would have taken them years to actually find it, even with Selene's guidance. Between it being located miles under the earth, being carved underneath an expansive wilderness at the edge of the world, and the many enchantments obscuring its location, it certainly wouldn't have been easy to find, even for a skilled treasure hunter like Selene.

  We continued up the long tunnel until, at last, we came to a cave-in. The collapsed tunnel was lit by green glowstones, small rocks native to the Depths that glowed in a variety of colors due to their natural mana-gathering ability. These were not the most attractive stones I’d ever seen, and their sickly green light illuminated ten or so skeletons, making the space look even less savory.

  The corpses were clothed in ragged and rotten clothes, and the smell of decay had long since dissipated, leaving only a dry, dusty stillness tinged with the hint of old bones. I initially counted ten, but a more thorough search revealed another crushed figure underneath the rubble, its bony, severed arm sticking out from underneath many tons of rock.

  "Oh, Master, you should have seen their faces," she giggled as she floated up to one of the corpses, waving her hands like she was splatting water onto a window. "Smush, squish, crack." She punched her tiny fist into the other, her tail swishing like a happy cat, before turning to face me. She pointed to another broken arm I had missed hanging loose from beneath a massive rock on the far side of the collapse. "Three are under there. And when they were cut off from that whore, they couldn't enter your vault again. I made sure of it." The little imp looked so smug.

  "And how, exactly, were you able to do such a thing?”

  "When you were asleep, I studied your enchantments. Once I got strong enough, I carved one into the wall. Then, when they came back, they couldn’t get in. That’s when I collapsed the tunnel." Her fangs gleamed in the pale green light.

  I smiled at her, impressed with my servant. I had chosen and shaped her essence well.

  I studied the corpses further. Some were whole, resting where they had died. Others were dismembered, their bones piled on the far side of the tunnel, teeth marks running up and down them. Another had its hands tied behind its back, the torn skirt and ruined blouse suggesting what its fate had been. I couldn’t help but enjoy the carnage. They deserved everything they got.

  The group had carried equipment and tools with them—pickaxes, shovels, hammers, and rope—that lay against the walls. Each showed clear signs of heavy use, and many were broken. Small tunnels disappeared several feet into the stone, but either through fatigue or desperation, none went far.

  Looking back at the corpses, their remains told a story of struggle and desperation. These thieves were willing to do whatever they needed to get out of their situation, and as the realization dawned on them that they would die, they devolved into the monsters that mortals so desperately despised.

  Stepping between the bodies, I let the image of the desperate mortals trying to claw their way to safety linger in my mind for a moment before letting it fade. What truly mattered was not the demise of these pitiful beings, as pleasing as it was; it was the restoration of my rightful property. I began searching the bodies, looking for anything that could be of use to me.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Rifling through their ragged clothes, I found little of use. Some of their pockets had coins. I took the most intact coin purse and squirreled away as many as I could find. A handful of copper coins, several silver, and little more. I found a ring with some promising runes, but my [Detect Magic] skill told me that its magic had long faded. I threw the ring back onto the corpse. These thieves hadn’t been much.

  When I was done and tried to pocket my findings, I realized my own clothes were little more than rags. I tied to coin pouch to what remained of my belt and tried to suppress my frown. Nothing else of worth remained here. The Depths, as always, were merciless.

  I glanced over at Angra, who sat perched atop one of the skeletons like it was a throne. When she saw me looking at her, she tilted her head, anticipating my next words.

  "I am ready," I said flatly.

  “Are you sure, Master? We can spend as much time as you need…” Concern filled her features.

  She understood my mind completely. I hadn't been able to bring myself to inspect my vault's back halls earlier. However, there was little to be salvaged out here, and I had gotten some small satisfaction in knowing that the mortals had died pitiful, small, meaningless deaths in the dark. “I am. Come, Angra.” My imp alighted back on my shoulder. I spun on my heel and walked back toward my vault.

  As I walked back towards the hole in my vault, I hesitated for a moment before adding, "Let's go inspect what's left of the sanctum before returning to our chambers.” If there was anything left to scrounge for, it would be there.

  Her scrunched face made my heart drop.

  I sat on the edge of my coffin again, feeling like I might just lie back inside and close the lid. I’d managed to look through three of my sanctum’s rooms, but I lost all motivation after the fourth, my enchanting room.

  My armor? Gone.

  My sword? The main one, not the weaker one I’d left in my old keep? Vanished.

  My favorite cloak, the one I’d layered my best enchantments into? Stolen.

  My scepter? Missing.

  My spellbook? The good one that contained all of my spells? The one I kept on a dais in the center of my spell chamber? Gone. Forever gone.

  So were the spare traveling spellbooks. And my collection of enchanted rings. And my statuettes, the ones that transformed into beasts when you said the correct trigger words. My favorite was a black panther.

  Gone, gone, gone.

  Selene, you bitch.

  I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. Everything that meant anything to me was gone. The bitch and her bastards had plucked everything of value, leaving me with barely enough material wealth to live like a peasant in some backwater town for a few years. Me!

  I gazed down at the sackcloth bag I’d found that I'd fashioned into a makeshift pack. A single silver necklace, tarnished and blackened from decay, weighed it down, along with a pair of bronze bracers, their enchantments still surprisingly active for an item so weak. Angra said she had recovered those when she had hunted down the thieves on the surface before collapsing the tunnel. A smattering of other items littered the bag, but all of them had lost their potency, courtesy of the Depths seeping into my home through the ruined wall and weakening my enchantments.

  Luckily, I had found some more coins hidden behind a false wall. Including the coins I found on the bodies, I had scrounged up seventy-six copper, twenty-three silver, and four gold coins. They jangled inside the worn leather pouch I'd found among the thieves' bodies. For my purposes, that would have to do.

  Emotionally drained, all I could do was sit and sulk until, finally, after what felt like an eternity of sighs, I picked myself back up. Wiping my face, I said to my familiar, “Well. Good news, I suppose. We have enough money for some necessities once we get out of here." I flashed a half-smile. “We can live like lesser merchants instead of peasants. Hurray.”

  "This is wonderful news, Master!" Angra cocked her head to one side, a thin smile pulling on her pouty lips. She leaned closer to me, almost purring as she spoke. "I promise you I shall not disappoint you when we leave. I will serve you dutifully, even if we must live like poor slobs." With a quick wave of her hand, she performed a curtsy, bowing before her master. "Whatever you wish of me, I shall carry out."

  I pushed myself upright, using the lip of the sarcophagus to steady myself as I rose. I was so weak now. "I know you will, my dear. You are nothing if not dutiful.”

  She nodded vigorously, and her tail jolted wildly.

  “That leads us to the bad news." I took a deep breath. My ribs creaked as I did, my body unused to the movement. I felt a chill from the stagnant air rush through my lungs and into my veins. "My spellbooks are gone. Without them, we can't leave."

  She smiled brightly. "But surely there is some kind of brilliant plan in that cunning skull of yours!" She practically bounced as she leapt onto my shoulder, clasping her little claws around my neck. "A master of magic like you can’t be held in some dank cave forever. Soon, we will be far from here, slaying heroes and eating monsters."

  I shook my head. "I’m sorry to say, I’ve forgotten all of my spells, and I only have a small number of skills left. None of which are [Teleportation]."

  “What does that mean?” Her voice was heavy.

  “If I had my scepter, I would have us out of here in a blink. Alas, it’s missing. Without my spellbooks or my scepter, we're stuck here. And now that I'm alive again, I'll eventually need to eat. Even as one of the few inflicted by the [Dark Lord’s Shadow], I don’t have forever. So, unless you've been practicing necromancy behind my back or know how to turn rocks into meat..." I paused for dramatic effect, but I found myself smiling at the idea. With my full power, I was certain I could make it work. "I've got a week—maybe a month at the most." My stomach growled, backing me up.

  "And then...?" Angra fluttered her wings nervously.

  I took a deep breath. "Then I'll die. Again."

  She shrieked. "No, no, no! You won't die again. I don't want to wait again until you come back together! We have so many things to do!"

  I frowned. "I won’t die from hunger. I'll have you kill me first. I refuse to die like a caged animal. I'll go out on my own terms."

  The look she gave me hurt almost as much as her nails digging into my neck. "NO! I'll feed you, keep you healthy!" Her wings fluttered wildly as she wrapped her arms tighter around my neck. "I will NOT stand by while you waste away!"

  "Ow ow OW. ANGRA. Get. Off!" I peeled her claws from my skin. I tried to throw her like the mangy cat she was acting like, but she wriggled free from my grip before jumping into the air and landing lightly on her feet. "I would rather have my most loyal servant kill me quickly than suffer slowly."

  "Master, I've been eating well for years!" She twirled, and for the first time, I realized what she was wearing. A rat loincloth. The nappy-looking grey fur covered her lower half, a dead rat's empty eye sockets decorating her left thigh, and her tiny bust was wrapped in woven rat tails.

  Disgusting, yet oddly creative. She must have really hated being alone... But still. "I'm not eating rats." I swept my arm across the ruins of my once-glorious vault. "I'm a lord among men! Once upon a time, I made the world shudder with the sound of my voice. I made hearts quiver at the sound of my name. I refuse to eat rats." I set my jaw and glared at her out of the side of my eye.

  "But... but... they're tasty..."

  “No rats.”

  “But Master, I—”

  "Enough." My voice echoed through the empty halls. I let the command sink in, watching as she shrank into herself. The idea of my upcoming demise made me grimace, but I’d happily die before I would eat rats. I’d never lower myself that far. "Does anything remain in our library?"

  "The books were stolen too, Master."

  "What about the hidden drawer under my bed?" I really hadn't wanted to see my bedroom yet.

  "She knew about that one, too." The imp looked sheepish. Then, she stamped her foot and put her hands on her hips. "I told you not to bed her! That she was no good!" She marched up to me and poked my thigh. "How many times did I tell you not to trust her, that she shouldn't come here?!"

  “Many times.”

  “And what did you do?”

  “I brought her here.”

  “Yes! And then, after all the moaning and groaning and ‘my darlings,’ she’d leave, and what would I say?”

  “Don’t bring her back.”

  “And?”

  “She’s going to betray us.”

  “And look what happened.” Her yellow eyes glowed in the dark as she glared up at me.

  I rubbed my temple. "Yes, I get it, I made a mistake."

  "Many mistakes," she spat. “During many visits.”

  "Sure, sure. I get it. But was it all truly taken? Everything in the sanctum?"

  “Yes!”

  I thought about anything I could have hidden. There had to be at least one book I’d hidden well. “Are you sure there aren’t any books left?”

  She shuffled, and her head dropped. "One book remains in the library... The metal one that talks." Her voice dropped low, her face twisting with disgust.

  "The grimoire?" The grimoire!" I stood up in excitement, both knees popping as I did.

  "Yes, Master… The grimoire." She pouted. "But I don't think we should grab that one. It's awful. Scary..."

  I reached down to pat my familiar's shoulder. I forced a smile as she looked up at me again. "I don't like it either, but it's our only choice." I picked her up and pulled her onto my shoulder as I marched back into the back halls of the vault. My bare feet pressed against the stone floor, the sound reverberating through the vast Great Hall as I made my way to the large gilded double doors that marked the sanctum beyond.